


But in the dark I have no name

by froeken_frost



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Amell/Anders friendship, Circle of Magi, Gen, Mage Rights, before the fifth blight, fade-touched creatures
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-17
Updated: 2016-07-17
Packaged: 2018-07-24 15:40:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7513909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/froeken_frost/pseuds/froeken_frost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You heard my voice.<br/>I came out of the woods by choice.<br/>Shelter also gave their shade<br/>But in the dark I have no name.  </p><p>Sometimes Anders' life in the Ferelden Circle seems to be ages away. But blink an eye and the nightly terrors might take you right back again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The title is inspired by Mumford & Sons song "Hopeless Wanderer".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a concept worked out for that one, so please don't get weirded out right away. It will make sense in the end.  
> Plus, not beta'ed, so please excuse eventual misspelling.

_**9:35 Dragon** _

Anders awoke screaming. His breath came in quick pants and for a second he couldn't say where he was. Then strong fingers touched his shoulder lightly.

"You alright, love?" Hawke's voice was dense and heavy with sleep. Coming back to his senses, Anders regretted waking him up. The man got less sleep as it was. 

"Yeah, I think so. Just..." His own voice was throaty, too. He felt dizzy in the warm, fuggy air that came along with the Kirkwall's summer.

"Nightmares again?" Anders felt feathery-light kisses placed on his neck. Despite himself he smiled at the tenderness the warrior showed him. 

"Not really." At the very least, he didn't have any dreams about darkspawn or archdemons. It was a start.

"Go back to sleep, love. I just need some air."

Anders could tell Hawke wasn't very keen on that. His Marius, always the protector. He had a hard time to accept there were things Anders had to deal with alone. He turned around to face his lover and planted a soft kiss on the man's lips. "I'll be right back."

 

Stepping onto the balcony of Hawke's estate, the air felt no less humid and steamy, despite the hour. Anders sat down and leaned his back against the stones that kept the day's warmth within. He (tilted) his head back and drowned in the sight of the seemingly endless landscape of stars above. Almost the same as in Ferelden. 

How often had he stared at them, in countless sleepless nights?

The melancholy stirring within him had left him wide awake. He briefly considered backing his things and heading to the clinic through the basements, in order to get some work done. But the unrest in him was almost palpable. He brushed the palms of his hands over his face. 

He had no doubt about the cause of his mental state: His dreams had put him right back in time - times he scarcely wanted to be reminded of.

Anders hadn't really thought about Catherine Amell for a long time. Yet now he had awoken with her face staring right at him, manifested in his dreams. But had it been only a dream? 

_Of course it was._  He scolded himself. There were no somniari safe Feynriel, and he knew for certain that Cathy was none. Plus: The last thing he heard about her was she was made tranquil. _Fucking Templars._

Anders groaned when a pang of guilt hit him. Where was she now, he wondered. Still in the blighted tower in the center of Lake Calenhad? Did she manage to escape, even with her magic taken from her? _Or have they finally killed her for her lack of obedience?_

He quickly shook his head at the thought. No, he wouldn't go there tonight. She was made tranquil. Tranquil didn't run. Whatever there was left of her, she wasn't the woman Anders once had known.


	2. Chapter 2

_**9:20 Dragon** _

Anders' back was aching when he finally was allowed to leave the cells. The heavy armors of the two Templars escorting him to the apprentice quarters clang with every step they took. Almost like a soothing rhythm hadn't it been - well, Templars.

He was almost about making a smart comment, something like "Thank the Maker you guys are here to protect me, fear that I would be attacked by gigantic cockroaches on the way to my bedroom!" but for today he didn't dare to. Safe it for another day, when the memory of the overwhelming power these metal bastards had wasn't that present in his memory anymore.

All he could think of now, was to crawl under his blanket, curl up and hope for sleep to claim him. If only Karl would still be here. It would have made anything a lot easier to take.

Alas, one day his slavers would decide he was ready to take the Harrowing and then he and Karl could see each other whenever they wanted. More or less.

The door to the apprentice quarters was pushed open and a red-haired Templar - a young one, a new recruit maybe? - told him to go and stay inside.

 _One more week of confinement_. He thought bitterly. Well, it could have ended worse, he assumed. At least, the large roomed appeared to be empty. He didn't want to talk to anyone just now. Safe for Karl, but Karl was upstairs with the harrowed mages and unreachable for him.

With a loud noise the door fell shut behind him. Rid of the prying Templars, Anders let go of his posture and sank down on his bed. He let go of a weary sigh and buried his face in his palms.

If Karl were here now, he'd draw him into a tight hug and whisper silly, soothing things into his ear. The memory was so vivid in front of Anders' eyes, he could almost feel his lover's touch. 

It was just there when Anders felt something was at odds.

"It is you, is it not? Yes, oh it must be you! Oh, oh!"

Jerking back, he stared at the girl in front of him with wide eyes. A curse slipped from his lips. His heart was racing in his chest, and it took him great effort to calm himself down again. Where the hell did she come from? The room had been empty, hadn't it?

"Andraste's tits, who are you?!" Did he sound breathless? Probably. Not much he could do about it, though. Slowly, he composed himself again. Curious now, he took a closer look at the girl sitting in front of him.

She must be a new apprentice, arrived in his ten days of solitary confinement. Under the bunch of ragged mousy hair, a broad smile was directed at him. Anders could see a hardly healed bruise on her right cheeks, the skin changing from purple to yellow already. Heat seethed up in him as he saw the harmed flesh. _Fucking Templars._

Though he had to admit: What was most disturbing about the girl were her eyes. The pale green color and the feverish gleam, added to the wide-eyed stare she shot at him made him more than a little uneasy. Why didn't she blink from time to time? 

Something deep within Anders' mind yelled to get away from her as quickly as possible. _Survival instincts._ He noticed, but shook the impression off. She was only a girl, maybe five, six years younger than him and – since he had never seen her before – unaccustomed to the life in the circle.

When he didn't answer on her... Well, let's call it attempts of communication, she grinned a little wider and leaned forward carefully.

Anders felt like a doe under the prying eyes of a hunter at her unsettling stare. 

"Anders from the Anderfels. Damn all these creative bastards. How long has it been now? Do you even recall your actual name? Of course you do. Your mother used to call you by it and you would never forget your mother. You try to sometimes, because it hurts to think of her, but you never forget her.

"But it is alright, I can play along. Anders - as stupid as I think the name - is what I shall call you then."

Finishing her rambling, the girl giggled madly and slung her arms around her knees, hugging them tightly. She started rocking back and forth, but her eyes yet lingered on him.

His mind started racing at her words. _How on earth could she know...?_

"Who are you?" He started carefully, his voice as calm as he managed to. But no need. The girl simply started humming a tune he couldn't recognize. And continued to rocking back and forth.

"You're right. I'm Anders. Do you have a name, too?" Anders tried again.

Suddenly, her grin faltered and she look almost sad. "It would be so much easier without one, do you not think so to? But in the dark I have no name. And without a name I cannot be remembered - only by those already close to the abyss and they don't count - and if no one remembers me, I could be dead as well already. That would be freeing, I think. Much more freeing than your fruitless attempts of escaping. You know they’ll always catch you again, right? Keep going like that and you’ll never be free."

Again, Anders found it difficult to follow her words, but what he heard, sent a chill through his bones.

The girl smiled again, but finally released him from her unnerving stare. Instead she focused on something behind him. Something told him that he wouldn't get far with logical arguments. The girl somewhat reminded him of the Templars who used lyrium for too long - with that unfocussed glare and the feverish gleam to her face.

"Of course, I should have seen that earlier." Anders tried again, making the most serious face he could while bluntly faking to understand her previous rambling. "I'll tell you what my mother called me when you tell me what your mother called you."

The girl's glare turned to him again, definitely sad this time. "You will not. You are lying."

Well, Anders didn't expect to get caught that easily. The Templars used to believe his lies more easily. Fortunately enough, the girl didn't seem especially offended by it.

"Nothing to worry about. You want something and you think by lying you will get it easier. For now, you might even be right. It will change eventually. And then, the weight of your lie will be as heavy on your chest it will take your breath away. You will look into loving eyes and see nothing but blind trust.

"And you will feel the taste of your lie on the tip of your tongue and will be unable to speak, unable to tell them. And in this moment you will curse yourself for all these unimportant lies you told all these unimportant people and you will wish you could undo all those if it only meant you could _tell_ _the truth_ this one time."

Anders couldn't help but stare at the girl. The glaring green eyes touched him to the quick.

She must be mad, Anders found no other explanation. For the first time he considered actually calling for the Templar's help.

But then the girl's posture relaxed and she uncurled from the floor.

"They call me Catherine Amell." She added. Turned on her heels and was through the door in an heartbeat.

And left Anders sitting there in utter confusion.


End file.
